


In Your Face

by SubwayWolf



Category: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not A Game, Bad Dirty Talk, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Press, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Size Kink, Trans Character, Urination, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Watersports, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf
Summary: Benrey and Gordon do a competition piss-hold. As it goes on, they get less interested in winning and bragging rights, and more focused on making each other feel good.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	In Your Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jazzmedic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzmedic/gifts).



> unfortunately, half-life and hlvrai still share a tag here on ao3. the fic will be categorized appropriately ASAP if the change is made. 
> 
> standard disclaimer time. do not share this with the creators of hlvrai or anyone else who does not wish to see it. and don’t consume this content if you’re gonna be rude about it. or if you’re a minor, but that goes without saying, i hope.
> 
> super honored to get to write something for marv @jazzmedic. it was honestly a lot of pressure to make something for someone who's so renowned in the fandom. obviously, this fic draws a lot of inspiration from his awesome content. so for lack of a better turn of phrase, this is kind of like a love letter to marv and all the work he does. his talent is unmatched. i think i speak for everyone when i say _thank you_ for the content you create. you are genuinely a pillar of the community. i hope you enjoy this!
> 
> forewarning, in case anyone ignored tags in a moment of hubris. this has watersports in it. that means piss. pee pee. urine. enjoy or get out. thanks!

Everything about Benrey is slightly too-big. From his teeth to his hands to his monster cock, Benrey is larger than normal. The difference is subtle, yet perceptibly inhuman.

Gordon muses about this during the car ride home, in the passenger seat, as he stares down at his own lap, where Benrey has placed one of his hands on Gordon’s thigh. Benrey looks forward as he drives, but keeps one hand on Gordon. His touch is heavy and super suggestive. 

It would be a really sweet moment if Gordon wasn’t preoccupied with enduring the agonizing discomfort of a too-full bladder. 

After a fun night out on a pseudo-triple-date with the rest of the team, Benrey had been getting impatient from the beginning. 

He was definitely in the mood to have Gordon all to himself tonight, and it showed. As much as Benrey secretly enjoyed spending time with the rest of the team, sometimes he wanted it to just be himself and Gordon. The reasons varied. Even Gordon wouldn’t pretend to know all of the reasons why. But he knows tonight’s reason. Benrey wants to fuck. 

He wasn’t subtle about it, not even in the presence of their friends. When the rest of the group was preoccupied and he was sure he could get away with it, Benrey had his hands on Gordon under the table, or was trying to annoy him by playing footsie. It wasn’t unusual of him to be a little naughty in public. But if he was willing to do this in the presence of people who would never let him live it down when they found out, then he must have been _seriously_ craving some pussy. Gordon thought it might be funny to play hard-to-get, but he wanted this, too. 

The night passed quickly. It was starting to get late, so they all separated and went home. As they walked out to the car, Benrey had put his arm around Gordon’s shoulders and walked really close to him. It felt good to have their bodies so close together; Gordon was thankful for the darkness of night, so Benrey wouldn’t see him blush and laugh at him for it. 

As they walked back to the car, Benrey had lowered his voice like he was about to tell a secret. But he asked, rather unceremoniously, if Gordon wanted to fuck when they got home. Obviously the answer was yes. Gordon couldn’t think of a way to avoid sounding slutty about it, so he said yes. They were totally gonna mess around tonight and go to town on each other. Gordon just had to pee when they got home, and then he’d be ready right away. 

But Benrey had shook his head no. A spark of mischief lit up his eyes. _Try holding it,_ he had challenged. 

Now, they’re both suffering through holds. The radio is on, and Benrey’s huge hand is resting casually on Gordon’s thigh as they drive, but Gordon can’t focus on any of that. 

His bladder is dangerously full. Every bump and turn on the road, Gordon feels amplified a thousand times. He keeps his legs together as they drive; he usually sits with them spread so his discomfort is definitely noticeable. 

Pretending like he’s not about to burst is not easy. Benrey probably sees right through his false and wilted veneer of cool, anyway. But Benrey isn’t saying anything, isn’t mocking him quite yet. With any luck, he’s struggling with his own hold at the same time. 

The last time they did this, Benrey made some offhanded remark about Gordon bitching too much. So, to prove he could be quiet, Gordon refrained from complaining this time. But it’s really difficult not to. He repeats strings of curse words in his head and locks his jaw to keep from sobbing them out loud. 

He’s full and as tight as a water balloon. He feels like he’s going to explode and soil the car seat. But somehow he makes it all the way home.

By the time they get back to the apartment, the tickle in Gordon’s belly has long since passed intolerable. He’s almost reached the point of it being painful. He walks, very gingerly, inside to the bedroom. Benrey lags behind, putting the car keys and their jackets and shoes “away” by carelessly and messily throwing them across the room onto the couch. 

Gordon sympathizes with his impatience. With each step, Gordon can feel his stiff, full bladder sloshing its hot contents side to side. He has to keep his legs as close together as possible to avoid leaks. It sucks, but it’s pain worth enduring for coveted bragging rights. 

They get undressed together in the bedroom before they start. Bending his body to remove his clothes is miserable. He starts to strip down, to nothing but socks and white briefs. Gordon can’t find the balance between gentleness and haste. He has to go _so_ bad. Bending over to slide his pants off, then lifting each leg to step out of them, is fucking unbearable. 

“You’re lucky I’m innately competitive,” Gordon complains, muffled by his own shirt as he pulls it up and over his head. “Or this _wouldn’t_ be happening.”

“Yeah, sure.” Benrey doesn’t buy it. This is a fun little competition, a playful challenge to each other. But it’s also really hot. 

The two of them have involved piss in their sex life many times, and it’s always a treat when they do. Loosing dirty, taboo body fluids all over somebody is always arousing. Holding it in until the body takes over, expelling it everywhere as an accident – that’s even hotter. They both really like it, so Gordon attributing this to his competitive nature is not the full truth. He agreed to this for horny reasons, too.

Getting off is not the priority. Not yet, at least. At the moment, all Gordon cares about is outlasting his boyfriend. And, he supposes, making him feel good in the meantime. He’s already doing a great job in both respects, apparently. 

When Gordon sits down on the bed, he gets a great view of the half-hard, slowly-stiffening bulge between Benrey’s legs, noticeably filling out his black sweatpants. Gordon raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, are you fuckin’ _hard_ already?” He tries his best not to laugh it off.

Benrey is pulling off his shirt, to reveal his body and hairy tummy. Gordon could swear it looks a little distended. Benrey tosses his clothes to the floor and half-shrugs in a casual and dismissive way. “I told you. I’m in heat.” 

“Haha, shut up, don’t make me laugh! That’s cheating.” His bladder stings as laughter moves his body. Gordon hates how funny he is, sometimes. 

But Benrey isn’t laughing. And this isn’t the first time he’s mentioned it. Casually mentioning a heat, blaming it for his behavior and attitude – he’s been doing it for over a week now. Every time he says the word, Gordon’s gut twists up. He isn’t sure if it arouses or terrifies him. Maybe both.

Benrey is definitely acting different, because he’s a little pushy and handsy tonight. Could it really be some kind of _heat_ , though? He could be exaggerating to be funny, but judging by his expression, he’s not joking. He’s consistent when he mentions it – casual, even. His body heat is elevated, his natural body odors are stronger, and his pupils are blacker, more dilated. It’s probably due time to start taking him seriously.

In classic Benrey fashion, he can’t keep serious for long. “You’re up first, tough guy. Let’s see if you can take it.” He wants to fuck with Gordon and see if he can make him piss early. 

Gordon is not going to go down without a fight. Before they play the game, he lifts a hand and lays down some rules. “You have to play fair, okay? Let me get some hits in, too.”

Benrey isn’t typically receptive of orders, but he nods. “We’ll take turns. But me first.” It sounds like a demand, but he meets Gordon’s eyes and waits for him to nod before continuing.

With Benrey’s guiding hands lightly pushing him onto his back, Gordon lays backwards flat onto the mattress and lets himself be touched. He doesn’t say a word. It’s really hard not to complain or crack jokes, but all his resolve and focus has to remain on his hold right now. 

Benrey places a flat hand right on the lower part of Gordon’s belly. The touch is gentle at first as he gauges Gordon’s body. He feels around, until he feels something hard and distended. Then he increases his force. Slowly, he pushes down onto Gordon’s belly, pressing his hand onto his warm skin. It’s perfectly placed, right on top of Gordon’s hard, full bladder. The pressure is dangerous, threatening to loosen the piss everywhere. But Gordon holds his breath and grits his teeth through it. 

Simply pressing down on his bladder with his palm is too easy. Benrey’s going to have to break Gordon’s resolve first, which could involve getting creative. Benrey gets a knee between Gordon’s legs, spreading them. Closing his legs together was a relief; the inability to do that makes the hold so much harder. Benrey keeps his leg between Gordon’s knees so he can’t close up tight again. It’s brutal; Gordon tries not to whine and protest. 

A hand reaches down between Gordon’s legs and cups the muff of his pussy. The touch is less of a strategy to make Gordon piss, and more of a taunt. His touch, and the two fingers he slides in, a fraction of an inch, parting inside to where it’s slick already – to say the least, it’s distracting. It makes Gordon want to cave, to loose his bladder under the pressure, and piss all over this bed, just so he can get fucked. But his dignity is at stake here.

It’s been long enough. Gordon survives this round. “My turn.” 

Benrey takes his hands off and lets Gordon close his legs again. He isn’t happy about not winning on the first try, but he doesn’t protest about it. He plays fair. 

As Gordon gets up into a sitting position again, his bladder protests with tension and pain, as sitting up puts marginal pressure on it. Gordon grits his teeth through it and tries not to give himself away. “You really thought you would get me on the first try? Hell no. You’ll have to try way harder than that.”

Benrey pretends it doesn’t bother him. “Whatever. You’re pretty tough, I guess.” It’s kind of a compliment. If Gordon wasn’t running on a tight schedule right now, he might feel inclined to mock him for it. It’s probably for the best that Gordon doesn’t respond. He has to focus on winning, anyway. 

“Now that _that’s_ out of the way… Let’s get _this_ out of the way.” Gordon gets both hands on the stretched elastic waist band of Benrey’s sweat pants, then tugs them down. 

The sudden rush of cold air across his bottom half makes Benrey laugh a little. He’s also amused, maybe even impressed, by Gordon’s audacity to expose him like this, on his first attempt, no less. 

The elastic band is right under his ass now, pressing in on his thighs as he stands with his legs spread a little. His cock has swelled in size noticeably, but he isn’t fully hard yet. 

Gordon is face-to-face with Benrey’s dick and balls now. He puts his hands on Benrey’s wide, bare hips. He sways in response to the touch; his long cock bobs under the motion of his weight.

Gordon moves a hand to Benrey’s cock, lightly taking it in his hand, at the base where soft black pubes curl up the shaft. His other hand goes to Benrey’s heavy sack. Gordon intentionally kind of fumbles around with them. He does it intentionally somewhat poorly, just to tease. The stimulation is sure to deal a decisive blow to Benrey’s nearby bladder. 

Just from some light work of his hands, Gordon is able to turn Benrey into putty - metaphorically speaking. In reality, Benrey is getting _hard_. Gordon works his hands, giving a measure of reason to his movements, until he is both stroking and fondling. Benrey’s cock is growing hard, gradually but noticeably. Gordon can feel it his hand, a rush of heat to accompany the stiffness. 

Gordon looks up to see his face. Benrey has a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, for stability as he stands. He’s biting his lip to keep from cursing, but that doesn’t suppress quiet, weak whimpers. He also looks so focused on his hold. His brow is knit close, his discomfort peaking. He’s even sweating a little. At this point, it’s less about trying to win, and more about Gordon just wanting to see him squirm around from this half-assed hand job.

Benrey endures it, which is annoying. He pulls his pants back up to deny Gordon access, but isn’t happy about it. His arousal is beginning to peak. It shortens his patience. 

Now that it’s his turn again, Benrey stands closer to the bed as if he’s about to mount Gordon like a dog. But he holds back. He sits on the edge of the bed, right beside Gordon. Sitting down seems to cause him discomfort, but he clenches his jaw through it. The bed sinks under both of their weights, and they look each other right in the eyes. 

Benrey places a hand onto the inside of Gordon’s thigh. Gordon reacts by spreading his legs; muscle memory that reacts in time with him, naturally. The longer they’re a couple, the more often Gordon notices their body language syncing up. It becomes second nature to anticipate each other’s touches and movement. Although the two of them sometimes laugh off their feelings as a joke, clearly, deep down, they’re reaching soulmate territory. Gordon tries not to think about it.

Benrey lifts the hand on Gordon’s thighs and slides his fingers under the soft elastic of Gordon’s white briefs. His hand then snakes inside, rubbing down Gordon’s belly and exploring further until he reaches between Gordon’s legs, where he feels heat and a forest of pubes. He cups Gordon’s pussy with his hand, blindly pawing for his bearings, his entire hand up to his wrist hidden under the white briefs. 

Gordon’s slightly-spread legs stay open and invite him to finger into the slightly-parted slit. Benrey curls two fingers up into the muff of Gordon’s pussy. They pass his hairy lips and slip right into his slit. It feels good, but the pressure stings all the way up to his bladder. Benrey starts to finger him. Gordon’s already slick, so it’s loud, too. 

“That’s okay?” Benrey asks sweetly, and it kind of sounds like one, mushed together word, with the way he mumbles it. 

The truth is that it’s _not_ okay, because it’s seriously compromising Gordon’s ability to hold. His belly hurts and he fears he’s going to piss all over Benrey’s hand… but at the same time, yeah, it does feel _really_ goddamn good. 

“It’s good,” Gordon agrees. “It’s so good, Benrey…” Even his voice sounds weak. His body is fighting him, but his body also wants more of it. He spreads his thighs to give Benrey’s hand some more room, and Benrey takes advantage of it, sliding in deeper, working his fingers faster. 

Just like everything else about him, Benrey’s fingers are big. He fingers Gordon with speed and gentle strength, moving and fucking his first two fingers up into the tight, wet, strong interior of Gordon’s pussy. With his thumb, he very gently rubs the pink tip of Gordon’s swollen dick. 

He’s very good, and very dutiful. Gordon can’t enjoy the pleasure, though. He can’t even feel it, while he’s tight and tense with pain. As his arousal builds, his ability to clench tight wanes. It’s too much. Mental resolve only lasts so long; Gordon whimpers, his strength slipping.

Gordon’s body fails him. He quickly closes his legs together in reflex, but it’s too late. 

He pisses with Benrey’s fingers still inside him. His bladder squeezes autonomously and hot piss flushes out, a flood between his legs. He can’t stop it; Gordon gasps as it rushes out, floods his slit and gushes out all over the outside of his pussy and down the inside of his thighs. He pees all over his own lower body, soiling his white briefs a dark shade of yellow, and pissing all over Benrey’s fingers and hand down to his wrist. 

Benrey continues fingering Gordon, pushing the piss that has flowed out, back inside him. There’s too much to contain, though; it keeps spraying out, more and more of it expelled between Gordon’s legs, gravity pulling it down onto his ass and onto the bedsheets. A hot puddle expands beneath Gordon’s body as he pisses all over himself and onto Benrey’s hand. The slick noises of his fingering are slower but sickeningly louder. 

Cramping up his body is useless, now, since he’s lost the contest. As his body completely relaxes and expels the urine on its own, Gordon falls back onto the bed and lays flat with his feet off the ledge. He groans with satisfaction. It really is such a relief; the pleasure makes him dizzy, almost. He relaxes his whole body, but his bladder is tightening up on its own, forcing piss to stream out between his legs. He has both hands on his tummy, lightly pressing down to assist his body as gently as possible. 

To allow Gordon’s body some space to let everything out, Benrey removes his hand and sits back, as a spectator instead. Benrey adjusts his own position on the bed so that he’s sitting further up. 

“Yeah, that’s it, Feetman,” Benrey encourages him, laughing a little. “Push it out. _Loser._ ” 

Gordon pushes. By tightening his lower body, the stream gets heavier and stronger. The pushing aids in expelling all of the urine, which is very quickly starting to overwhelm Gordon’s senses. The smell rises up from his lap, burning a dank stench into the room. But the most intense feelings are heat and pleasure. 

Benrey watches over Gordon; the emotions in his eyes are a hurricane of amusement, affection, and attraction. “You’re making a huge friggin’ mess, everywhere.” It sounds like Benrey is commending him, but he’s also definitely mocking Gordon. He talks sweetly, to counter it. “That’s a good boy.”

The sweet-talking doesn’t help how embarrassing this is. Gordon is super humiliated, yet extremely turned on. Gordon wants to change positions to get out of this massive puddle he created, but somehow he’s still peeing. He doesn’t even feel the urge to go anymore, but it’s still coming out of him. He wonders if maybe he’s gone numb, or something.

Right when it’s starting to feel endless, Gordon finishes. He’s pushed out every last drop of it. He feels empty now, and there’s a dull pleasure in that. He paces his breathing and tries to relax. Gordon touches himself with one hand, soaking his own fingers in piss. Legs still spread, he fingers slightly into his own slit, to feel how wet he is. The urine has soaked him, but his pussy is wet on its own, too. 

“Holy shit, that was a lot.” Gordon is so embarrassed, his face is flushed hot. He’s slick with hot piss all across his lower half. He can feel it hot on his skin. The piss dampens his pubes in licks of wet hair. His wet underwear is already starting to bother his sensitive skin. “Help me get these off?”

Benrey gets two hands around where Gordon’s waistband disappears around his hips. He pulls the briefs down Gordon’s legs and removes them. They’re no longer white – they’re soaked a mild yellow instead, and so drenched in piss that the fabric is slightly translucent. When Benrey throws them underhanded across the room into the laundry basket, the briefs hit the wall behind it instead with a loud, wet smack. 

“You better clean that up,” Gordon scolds him. He can only imagine the wet mark it made on the wall. 

But he can feel that there are more problems around him – the bed sheets, for example, are soaked. The puddle he’s created has expanded to a size wider than his own body. He looks down see the navy bedsheets he’s laying on are so damp, they have darkened to a near-black color. 

When he looks up again, it’s hard not to notice that Benrey is also very turned on. He’s fully hard now. He’s sitting there, shirtless with only sweatpants on, and his heavy cock is straining to break free. Benrey has a hand over it, covering the head of his stiff dick through the fabric of his pants, but he can’t hide it, and he doesn’t want to.

Gordon may have lost the contest, but making Benrey wait a little longer would make up for that. If only Gordon had the resolve to wait, himself. He doesn’t. Now that he doesn’t have to pee, he can feel the extent of his own arousal. And all he wants, other than a fresh set of bed sheets, is to get fucked and finish explosively.

Now that he’s comfortable again, Gordon can talk, which means he can complain. He wants to ask Benrey if he’s going to piss, too, now that he’s won. But that might come out sounding horny, when Gordon intends for it to sound dismissive. Unfortunately, that question is overloaded with horny vibes, so Benrey will probably laugh, if he asks it. 

Gordon doesn’t want to sound weak, or like he’s begging for it. But he is weak, and he wants it so badly. Luckily, Benrey wants it, too. Gordon is very easily strung along. 

“I still gotta go…” Benrey complains sheepishly. 

After enduring something inherently humiliating, Gordon craves a little control. “Finish what you started first.” He doesn’t have the patience for Benrey to not take him seriously. 

Predictably, Benrey _doesn’t_ take him seriously. “Yeah, sure, hold on. I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Be right back.” He gets to his feet, off of the bed, and has the audacity to walk away.

“What? Stop!” Gordon says, and then, in a deeper, more commanding voice, “ _Stop_. Benrey, if you leave me here like this, I swear to god I will go apeshit.”

Benrey stops his bee-line to the bathroom and stands in the middle of the room pouting at Gordon instead. He’s covering the obvious tent of his hard dick with both hands as if he cares about decency. “It _hurts_ , man, my bladder’s so tight.” Benrey scoffs a little, rolling his eyes dismissively. “You wouldn’t understand…”

“I wouldn’t _understand_!? Are you kidding me!?” Gordon sits up on the edge of the bed, in a fury. “I just – I _literally_ just did a hold, too, asshole!” 

“Yeah, I can smell it.” Benrey lifts the hand that was, moments ago, up between Gordon’s legs. His huge hand glistens wet with pee. Drips trail stripes past his wrist, down the length of his arm to his elbow. “It’s all over my fingers…”

Benrey lifts his wrist to his mouth, and his tongue slides out to meet his skin. He starts to lap up the piss. He trails broad strokes of his tongue up the palm of his hand and closes his mouth around his first two fingers. The viscous, sticky residue of vaginal slick loosely glues his fingers together; he licks that up, too.

Gordon’s cheeks burn. It’s kinda hot, but Gordon can’t help but imagine what it tastes like. “You are so fucking nasty!”

Benrey’s too-big, too-long tongue disappears back into his mouth, and he lets his hand fall. He’s still grinning. “You taste really good, best friend. Kinda craving some more of that. Gamer fuel.”

“Please don’t call it that.” Gordon sighs. He lays down flat on his back again, exhaling as his body hits the mattress. “I am so horny right now, and if you kill it for me, I’m gonna be super pissed off.”

Benrey returns to the foot of the bed. “I’ll _piss_ off. On your _face_ , bro.” He tries to convolute the words and make it funny, but it doesn’t really work. Gordon gets the message, though.

Up to this point, Benrey has shown restraint, surprisingly. Gordon has just pissed all over himself, covering himself in his own scent. Benrey is definitely impelled, by some animalistic impulse, to replace that scent with his own. 

Gordon doesn’t want to get doused in piss without warning like last time. “Do not pee in my hair again. Or on my face.”

“That wasn’t very convincing. You’re a bad liar. Kinda embarrassing.”

“I mean it, Benrey.”

Benrey understands that Gordon is setting boundaries. He resigns, not willing to fight about it. “Okay. Can I pee somewhere else?”

“Yeah.” It takes a lot of restraint for Gordon to avoid sounding desperate. “In the toilet.”

“‘Kay.” He starts to walk off again, turning towards the bathroom. His steps are slow, his legs awkwardly close together to avoid any leaks. “You keep yourself busy, Feetman, I gotta take a potty break—“

“Wait.” Gordon stops him, again. Saying the opposite of what he means is _not_ working. Benrey is taking him at face value again. He’s respecting the boundaries Gordon is establishing and being a good boyfriend. Gordon can’t be mad at him for that. 

Benrey does wait. He does it very impatiently. He’s been doing a hold for this long, he’s probably in agony. But he still waits.

“Uh… You can do it _on_ me. If you want.” Gordon averts his eyes from him for a second, embarrassed, feeling so vulnerable. “Not in my hair, though…”

Instead of laughing, or agreeing, or reacting in a normal way, Benrey thinks it’s funny to look at Gordon like he’s a complete idiot. “There’s no toilet paper over here, though. It’s in the bathroom.” He scoffs, play-mockingly. “Didn’t consider that? Didya? Idiot?”

“ _Benrey._ ” It comes out meaner than Gordon intended, but it does the trick. 

Benrey shuts up and stands at attention. Gordon spreads his legs just a fraction further apart, like an invitation. 

Benrey’s body spurs him before his head can catch up; he returns to the foot of the bed and stands right in front of Gordon. Gordon takes control by reaching for Benrey’s cock again. He impatiently grabs for him, reaching for his hard dick, just a little squeeze and pressure… 

That’s all it takes. A stream of piss pushes out of the tip of his card cock, arcs, and spills onto Gordon’s body. Gordon takes his hand down and Benrey just unloads on him. He pisses right on Gordon’s tummy, splattering everywhere, loud and wet. Gordon lays backward onto the bed again, keeping his legs spread. Piss streams onto his tummy, on his pussy, and between his legs.

“ _Fuck_ yeah…” Benrey purrs, gutturally, through his teeth. He pisses everywhere, onto Gordon’s tummy, his already-wet pussy, and all over his thighs, until the wet of Gordon’s own piss mixes with Benrey’s on his skin and all over the bed.

Benrey isn’t even holding his cock in his hand; it’s hard and front-facing and he lazily moves his hips to aim. Pissing while hard makes his face twist up; he’s uncomfortable, but the way his pupils dilate and his lips part make it obvious the relief is full-bodied and arousing. 

Eventually, his bladder reaches empty, the stream losing its strength until it’s a slow trickle, and the final beads of piss roll off the tip of his dick, yellow drops rolling down his thick shaft. 

It’s hot on Gordon’s skin. When he’s sure Benrey is finished, he lifts his hand to his own stomach and feels how wet he is. His body hair and pubes are totally soaked, worse than before. “Ugh, it’s so warm… Fuck…” Gordon pushes it around with his hand, like standing water across his skin.

Benrey has quite literally marked his territory. His scent is heavy; it reeks and burns at Gordon’s nostrils. Gordon’s body is awash with Benrey’s smell. The strong odor fills up the whole room, and Benrey looks very pleased with himself. 

Gordon stares up at him, still on a thinning wick of impatience. “You feel better now?” He doesn’t answer, but Gordon sees that satisfied grin on his face. “Good. Now, fuck me? Make me come?”

Benrey is still grinning, smugly, but he isn’t looking Gordon in the eyes. He isn’t even listening. His long eyelashes flutter as he affectionately observes Gordon’s body and the mess upon it. He is quite literally dripping wet, and Benrey likes what he sees.

Before Gordon can repeat his question or demand an answer, Benrey licks his lips and declares, in a familiar way, “Gordon, I’m thirsty.”

Gordon barely has time to connect the dots and realize who Benrey is doing an impression of, because Benrey gets on his knees at the foot of the bed, on the floor, and lowers his head to start eating Gordon’s pussy. 

Benrey is outstanding at it; erratic, in the best of ways. He starts off by indulging in the wet mess of piss all over Gordon’s skin. His tongue travels, lapping up the insides of Gordon’s thighs, on his tummy, and around the hairy muff of his pussy. It’s almost like he’s cleaning up after himself. But Gordon’s so saturated, and the saliva from Benrey’s drooling mouth only adds to the mess of slick, piss, and sweat. 

The hideous slurping noises are forgiven, because his tongue slides between Gordon’s legs next. Gordon can feel the wet pressure of Benrey’s slithering tongue part his slit, slipping inside for a taste. He works his mouth and tongue like an expert. He’s absolutely committed to eating a full meal. He works his whole face into the process; even his nose gets wet. 

Each lap of his tongue heaves Gordon’s arousal forward. His whole body his hot and excited; the stimulation of his pussy and the gentle sucks and teases on his dick feels so goddamn good, it curls up his toes. Gordon is moaning like a porn star. Benrey’s huge hands grip his thighs, squeezing tight handfuls of them as he eats him out. 

But Gordon feels his body heat rising. Gordon’s arch enemy is his own brain, usually, and it betrays him now. It feels good to get devoured like a meal, Benrey’s tongue running through him effortless and fast and slippery and hot – but his body, especially his engorged dick, is extra sensitive to begin with. And it’s quickly amounting to sensory overload. 

It’s oversensitive and overstimulated and Gordon has to make it stop. 

“Stop. Stop for a minute? Please.” 

Benrey does. He lifts his head. His lower face has a wet sheen all over, like he just finished a greasy, messy meal. His brow is furrowed in concern. “That was okay?” He wants praise for it, but he also wants to know if Gordon is okay. 

“Yeah, it was great. I’m just a little sensitive, it was a little much.” He can usually endure a long session of oral and dick-sucking. But sometimes there’s only so much stimulation Gordon’s body can take before his head decides he’s not up for it. It isn’t the first time this has happened. Benrey has told him not to apologize for it before, but that doesn’t ease the impulse to say it now. 

It warms Gordon’s heart to see Benrey’s concern fade into a half-smile. If he wants a little more praise for it, which he undoubtedly does, then Gordon might as well oblige him. He’s definitely earned it. 

Gordon’s voice softens. He holds eye contact with Benrey, so it’s perfectly clear that there’s pure truth in what he’s about to say. “Benrey. It felt really good, man. You’re so good to me.”

Benrey doesn’t know how to receive affection, so he deflects it. “It was mostly for me, bro. I like the taste. It restores HP.”

“Yeah,” Gordon says flatly, “I’m trying to be nice, here.” He second-guesses whether or not his praise is getting through as genuine.

It is getting through, and Benrey seems to realize that being relatively nice in return won’t hurt. He lets out a heavy sigh as he climbs onto the bed to lay tummy-down, beside Gordon. “I _like_ treating you good,” he admits with a cute little grin. “I like your smile, I like your cringe slutty little moans, I like your thighs crushin’ my head.”

As he shifts over to make room for Benrey, Gordon stays on his back, out of respect for the bedsheets. They are already damp all around him, but turning over would make it worse. He turns his face to the side instead, so he can see Benrey’s face and eyes and crooked smile. They’re nose-to-nose. 

Gordon can feel himself smiling, too. “Aww. That sounds like a compliment.”

“I like your piss,” Benrey adds as an afterthought.

“Yeah. You said that.” He fears that Benrey is still missing the point. He said such nice things; Gordon wants to give it back to him. “Just, thanks for being…” The words won’t come out. They’re completely naked, lying totally relaxed right beside each other, completely vulnerable and exposed. But Gordon still can’t spit out words that could potentially expose his heart’s genuine feelings into the light. 

Benrey is still smiling, though. He finishes the thought for him. “A sensitive and caring lover?”

Gordon laughs a little. “That is definitely not what I was going to say.” Except that it is kinda true, sometimes. Gordon can feel his cheeks getting warm as the thought of it settles in. “I was gonna… _phrase_ it differently…” 

Thankfully, Benrey doesn’t push him to finish his thought. He’s still preoccupied with how much he loves Gordon. He fights it down, too, though. It’s due time for Gordon to show some feelings. 

Benrey impatiently waits to hear them. His cock is still swollen and hard. He holds it in his hand, against his tummy. “You should, uh… gimme a kiss. To reward me for being a good boyfriend.” It’s a suggestion, but it kind of sounds like he’s asking for it.

On one hand, it warms Gordon’s heart to see Benrey having enough compassion to offer Gordon the option of physical affection in place of verbal affection. He’s tempted to kiss him for that alone. But on the other hand, Gordon is inches away from his face. He can smell Benrey’s breath.

Gordon turns his head away to protect himself. “Absolutely fucking not,” he laughs, “I am _not_ kissing that dirty, smelly mouth. No, sir.”

Benrey doesn’t disagree with that objection. “Can I borrow your toothbrush, bro?” He gets up from his tummy-down position and begins to get off the bed. 

Gordon gets up to a sitting position so he can strictly forbid him from doing both of those things. “No, you can’t, and don’t you fucking dare leave this bed.” Gordon wishes Benrey was wearing clothes, especially his tie – he’d have that in his fist in seconds, pulling him right back to bed. But instead he has to grab Benrey by the wrist to make him stay. “I’m gonna need you to make me come, please. I can’t stand the wait anymore.”

Benrey obliges. He sits on the bed and looks back at him. Part of him wants to crumble under the weight of Gordon giving a command. The other part wants to annoy him by fighting back. “I thought we were having a nice conversation… You just wanna rush it like that? That kinda hurts.”

“I’m _rushing_ it because I want your dick in me. Is that a good enough excuse?” Thanks to the break this short conversation granted them, Gordon’s pussy has recovered from being overstimulated. Now, he is soaking wet and ready for the second half. He doesn’t want to wait any longer for it, but his gut says he might have to. “Not like finishing is gonna make us shut up or focus. Nothing really does.”

“I stop talking when you gimme kisses,” Benrey offers, as a suggestion.

He’s right. “That’s true…” Gordon wants more than a kiss, though. His body is aching to get dicked down; the dull pressure building can only be satiated if he’s filled up. 

Gordon wants to say that out loud, but he’s not the best at dirty talk and can’t risk Benrey laughing at him. So he displays his body instead. He spreads his legs; his soaking wet pussy glistens in the light. 

Eyes flicking across Gordon’s body, Benrey reacts to the display with dilating pupils. He adores the sight of Gordon’s body all sprawled out for him, no matter the mess. Gordon practically presents himself to be mounted. Benrey goes in for the kill accordingly, by climbing up onto the bed again.

“Come here,” Gordon coaxes him until he’s right on top. 

They meet in a kiss. It does the trick of shutting them both up. It’s heavy from the start. Benrey uses his hands to get Gordon closer, feeling up his body and using his lips and hands with a measure of force. Gordon sometimes forgets how strong Benrey can be. 

Impelled by Benrey’s heavy hand, Gordon relaxes his jaw to receive his kiss deeper. Benrey closes the gap, passing his tongue over – as a fucking Trojan horse. Benrey proceeds to spit right into Gordon’s open mouth. It’s wet, and hot, enough of a wet mess to trail off of Gordon’s lips as Benrey pulls back. It tastes like piss. It _is_ piss.

Shoving him off with all his upper body strength, Gordon immediately breaks the kiss off and sours his expression. “What the hell?! God damn it, Benrey!” As he tries to spit up the taste in his mouth, Gordon can hear Benrey laughing. Gordon wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, which makes things worse – spit and piss smear into his beard. There’s enough of it to actually make Gordon’s facial hair feel damp. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, asshole?!” 

Benrey shows his teeth in a mischievous smile. “Haha, sorry. That was mean.” His smile falls a little. Shadows darken his eyes. “I wanted to see what you’d do.” 

Annoyed, Gordon just swallows the rest of it. “Whatever.” Gordon isn’t pleased that Benrey got the exact reaction he wanted out of him. He usually likes to make Benrey work harder for it. “If you’re really sorry, then make it up to me. Put it in.” He puts a hand on Benrey’s cheek, flushed warm. “Fuck me, Benrey? Fuck Gordon? Please?”

The honestly half-assed dirty talk works like a charm. Benrey hesitates. His temperature rises beneath Gordon’s touch. Benrey’s natural inclination to make a joke out of it immediately goes to war with his desire to fulfill each and every one of Gordon’s wishes in complete submission. 

As usual, Benrey can’t resist the desire to fuck around. “You’re all ready for it, aren’t you? You’re begging for it? Haha, you’re such a slut.” 

Gordon feels his own anger getting the best of him, quickly. “I’m asking nice. Trust me, you don’t want to see me ask _mean_.” 

Benrey _does_ want Gordon to get mean, and angry, and annoyed – it’s one of the things that makes him laugh the most, after all. Gordon glares at him. It’s clear that what Benrey says next could lead to an arousal derailment.

Benrey cuts him a little bit of slack. He’s eager, but playing it cool. He watches with a measure of affection as Gordon lifts a hand to take his glasses off. “Nuh-uh.” Benrey stills him by reaching for Gordon’s wrist and pulling his hand away. “Might wanna keep your glasses on for this one.” He releases Gordon’s hand so it doesn’t seem like he’s being pinned. “You gotta watch me. I’m gonna impress you, bro.”

That’s the showmanship Benrey decides to express, while he and Gordon scoot up to make more room for each other on the bed. Benrey has his cock firmly on display in his hand, between his legs. Gordon’s legs are spread and ready for it; seeing Benrey’s cock rock hard already turns Gordon’s stomach in anticipation.

Benrey is an absolute _truck_ of a man. He is in perfect proportion. Thick and solid and huge, from toe to tip. His cock is no exception. It’s almost inhumanly thick. Gordon likes to joke around that it’s like a can of soda – though that analogy doesn’t attribute to its length. Benrey’s is not only thick, but also hung. The loose fist he has holding his cock keeps it from tipping downwards under its own solid weight. 

Gordon wants to keep building upon his arousal. If it tapers off because Benrey is messing around and trying to be funny, then Gordon is going to be really annoyed. “Get that Monster Energy Drink inside me already. I’m gonna fall asleep over here.” 

Benrey snickers a little. He’s sitting back on his knees, between Gordon’s spread legs, and has his cock in hand, angled upwards so it’s the center of attention between the both of them. “Grab a can opener and drink me up then, babe…” Benrey teases as he strokes down his shaft, pulling his foreskin down slightly and exposing the full head of his cock. He mimics the sound of a can of carbonated soda opening, with his mouth, for comedic effect.

Immaturity catches up to him, and Gordon actually snorts out laughter. A lot of things about it are funny. Picturing Benrey opening an energy drink with a can opener - it’s a hilarious image. The grotesque foreskin puppetry, he tries to ignore, but it’s stupidly hilarious, too.

“Haha, shut up! That is totally not sexy!” Gordon manages to pretend to be serious, though a huge smile gives the game away. “You are totally unsexy right now. For the record.”

Benrey scoffs, totally reading Gordon’s bluff. “I’m not sexy? Doesn’t sound right. Fake news.” He waves a hand as if to fan a bad smell away from his nose. “ _You’re_ the one who smells like piss, bro.” 

Gordon laughs, again. It feels good to be able to laugh and lay here, completely naked and vulnerable, at the same time. It’s a feeling of comfort and love that can only be shared between best friends. Best friends who happen to be fucking, well and often, also. 

It’s true, though. Gordon does smell like piss. He’s still covered in it, dampening his body hair down. But his pussy is demanding attention now. It’s still soaking wet, hot, and engorged with arousal. Now that Benrey’s tongue is no longer inside it and he’s using that tongue to talk shit instead, Gordon’s patience is running out at something close to light speed. 

Gordon doesn’t want to beg for it again. He wants to have Benrey wrapped around his finger instead. “Sure, I smell like piss. But you _love_ it. It makes you want to fuck me so bad.”

Benrey’s smile is gone. He’s caught off guard by Gordon’s sudden inclination to be not only mean, but sexy concurrently. His expression softens a little, and for a second, he’s actually quiet. “Yeah…,” he answers after a moment.

His answer is too quiet, too hesitant. Gordon wants to hear him ask for it. “Say it.”

Benrey’s confidence kicks up. “I want you. I wanna spill my cock into you so bad…” He swallows hard, like his throat is running dry. His cock is still stiff in his hand, throbbing with pressure he’s aching to release. “I want to put it really deep in you, Freeman. I gotta. I need to.” It almost sounds like begging. Maybe it _is_ begging.

Gordon pretends to consider whether or not that answer satisfies him. It does. The truth is, Gordon also wants it. He wants to be fucked so badly, his body is starting to feel empty in anticipation. He has to stay strong and keep up the act; it helps him feel in control. Though, in reality, he’s hanging on by a thread. 

If he had any less resolve, he would cave in and beg for it himself. He bites his tongue for now. He uses his hands and body language to pull and guide Benrey onto him.

Hot, hormonal stink reeks off Benrey as he finally gets on top of Gordon and lines their hips up together. Gordon gets comfortable underneath him; it feels good to have weight pressing down on him, though it doubles their body heat. 

The preparatory oral foreplay and arousal-building – it all adds up. It all softens Gordon’s body to the perfect pliability to receive cock. He’s soft and supple and simultaneously sensitive and rock hard. His body is ready for this, already widening and slicking up to facilitate insertion. Gordon can pretend he’s not totally psyched about this all he wants. His body gives him away. His arousal can be read like a book. It heightens the air of vulnerability. 

But Benrey looks weaker. His pupils are dilated. The fist positioning his dick is a fraction away from being white-knuckled. His hands are almost shaking; he’s so weak and ready for it, it’s turning him to putty. And his eyes are faltering like he might cry. He doesn’t say anything at all. The heavy eye contact shows what kind of tension he’s feeling. He wants to reach out for what’s right in front of him, not in the physical way. But he freezes. He’s looking right at Gordon and doesn’t say a word. 

Gordon’s always found it funny, how Benrey could withstand the pain, in the past, of enduring what he thought at the time was unrequited love. He dealt with that, with a chip on his shoulder, a shit-ton of bad jokes, and an occasional tendency towards violence, to show for it. 

Yet the pain of inability to touch Gordon, when the gap between them is mere inches away – _that_ is somehow too much for Benrey’s big heart to handle. Maybe being vulnerable like this accelerates his tendency to falter. Whereas he is typically stubborn to the point of fault, the vulnerability of being seen and touched and loved, it shatters Benrey like glass. 

Gordon doesn’t want to push him too far. He wants him to feel good, and certain, and safe. Their shared primary goal right now is to have really good sex. And if Benrey finds his emotional footing and ruins this by trying to be funny again, Gordon will definitely lose his cool.

Benrey is halted right outside Gordon’s spread legs. He must be waiting for permission. He’s following Gordon’s lead. 

Tilting his head a little to the side, Gordon smiles fondly at him. “Cock for Gordon?” he requests. 

It’s the spur Benrey needs. He gets out of his own head and lets his body and heart take over. 

Benrey firmly holds his long cock in his hand. He guides its position with his hand as he moves his body forward. The tip nudges inside the muff of Gordon’s pussy. With a little pressure, the rest of the shaft slips inside, its thickness stretching Gordon open to receive it. It is so thick, Gordon spreads his legs for him a little more. It feels like a solid rod splitting him open. It feels so fucking _good_. 

“Good,” Gordon says out loud. It reads kind of like praise, and he watches Benrey’s eyes flick up to meet his. Gordon looks up at him, eyes half-lidded. “Keep going?” 

Benrey begins to move deliberately, aided by the ease of direction. He paces the motions of his hips and fucks his huge dick into Gordon’s pussy, sliding in then partially out and then in again. Gordon is so slick and wet already, Benrey’s cock slips inside, shaft disappearing into his pussy, swallowed up completely every time he pushes inside. 

Gordon’s body is receiving this so well. Benrey is starting to build his speed, while keeping each thrust deliberate and deep. He gets out of his kneeling positions and puts himself right on top of Gordon instead. As they move, they rock the bed together.

Their bodies slide and slip against each other like trying to grab wet soap. Though some of the piss has darkened and dried up in Gordon’s body hair, most of it remains wet on his skin. It combines with sweat seeping out of him, making this a seriously slippery fuck. 

It’s also a loud one. The bedframe rocks beneath them, wood and mattress springs bending and squeaking. With each of Benrey’s heaving thrusts, the bed slams against the wall. Along with that is their heavy breathing and occasional moans and whines.

Benrey’s heavy sack is slamming him, too. As they repeatedly slap between his legs, their force is starting to feel more like pool balls. The pain feels kind of good, but the entire area is beat. The overwhelmingly tight stretch to accommodate penetration is such an intense sensation, it’s hard to focus on anything else. 

Every inch he receives is rock hard and wet and hot. Gordon can feel the exact depth of each inch up inside his body; forcing far up inside, racking his entire body to repeated motion. His own dick is rigid and engorged; the motion of Benrey’s shaft rubs against it with each thrust, getting Gordon off so well.

Benrey’s weight is atop Gordon, pinning him right down. “Gonna breed you, Freeman…” Benrey says in his ear. He says it weakly, like a whine. 

Gordon doesn’t know exactly what he means by that, but it doesn’t even matter. It’s so hot. This could be Benrey’s attempt at dirty talk, or he could be totally serious. Either way, it makes Gordon’s head spin. “Yeah, fuck it. Breed me.” He is half-playing along, and half-absolutely down to get fucked different, if it means he’s fucked harder. 

Benrey uses his hands to push Gordon’s thighs up, pushing up the back of his knees so that Gordon’s hips are directly below his cock; Gordon helps him by shifting his weight a little and spreading his legs some more. Gordon knows this position is commonly known as a mating press. His body heat is already peaking, but the thought of that makes him run hotter. He isn’t sure if this is intentional. It just feels natural. 

It does seem deliberate on Benrey’s part. In this new position, he’s able to force his dick in much deeper. Gordon is completely loose, spread, and slick. It’s so easy to fuck into his dripping wet pussy, Benrey is too tired to keep up with this kind of frictionless speed. He’s fucking so deep, all his weight atop Gordon, pinning him right to the bed as he fucks him. He repeatedly rams into places Gordon has never thought reachable. 

It makes Gordon’s head spin. He lets his head fall back into the pillows as he whines, totally content. He can’t stop these moans from escaping his lips; though he doesn’t bother trying. 

“You’re so good, Gordon, you’re so fuckin’ good…” Benrey whines, just inches away from his face. He kisses him on the lips but Gordon’s just too dazed to kiss back. 

This fuck is brutal and full-bodied, his whole body racking under Benrey’s strength and weight. The cock inside of him is so hot and stiff, really pressing deep, like his guts are getting scrambled. Gordon lets himself be kissed; Benrey’s really hurried and sloppy with it, but his thrusts are deep and slow. Gordon keeps his legs up and takes dick as deep as he can. He feels split open, in the best way. 

Benrey needs space to breathe, so he can’t kiss Gordon anymore. He’s being so physical and it’s tiring him out. But the wet, sloppy sounds of fucking keep their quick rhythm. Getting stretched to its limit by a Coke can-thick dick, and slapped repeatedly by a heavy set of balls, is taking a toll on Gordon’s pussy. His arousal has swollen him up, turned him puffy, hot, and slick. He’s so hot and engorged, but the sensitivity has disappeared, brutalized towards numbness.

As the brutal pounding rocks his whole body, hard, over and over again, Gordon’s head is spinning with desire and gratefulness and arousal. “Fuck! Ahh, Benrey, _fuck me_ ,” is how Gordon ends up saying out loud, breathlessly, not coherent enough to appropriately convey how he feels or how this is rocking his whole world, big time. 

Gordon holds him tight, keeps their bodies close, takes Benrey inside him, latches his legs around him – it’s the best way to say _I want you_ with his body. If he wasn’t so busy fighting off more slutty moans, Gordon would say it out loud.

Gordon tightens his internal muscles around Benrey, creating tension and suction to finish him off. Gordon wishes the two of them had enough stamina to keep this up for hours. But their bodies are being pushed to their brink, and their respective arousals are culminating simultaneously. 

It’s Gordon who finishes first – the pressure and pleasure builds up in his lower gut, then through his body, all the way to in his head. It overflows, heat and arousal bursting in an orgasmic shockwave. His eyes close; the paramount peak of pleasure alights his whole body, toe to tip, in total golden bliss. The visceral, weak moaning which accompanies it is frankly embarrassing. His pussy flutters and contracts around Benrey’s still-stiff cock. 

This orgasm just keeps flushing bliss through him; it’s a long one, ringing through him like a bell. Gordon opens his eyes, half-lidded, to see Benrey. He’s totally about to finish, too. 

Benrey looks like he’s about to throw his head back and howl like some feral animal. He finishes, gutturally. His thrusts slow down as he deposits an inhuman amount of come inside of Gordon. He buries his cock deep between Gordon’s legs. He keeps his body steady, holds himself right in place, pinning Gordon down, making sure his deposit is made in full. His breathing slows, but it’s deep, satisfied. He’s barely able to keep his eyes open; it’s so physical, it takes everything out of him.

As Benrey slides his soft, long dick out, a mess of come and other fluid spills out with it. He sighs, half-dreamily and half-exhausted. He’s looking right at Gordon, like he’s unable to take his eyes off. 

Gordon catches his breath and looks into Benrey’s eyes, too. He looks so distant, like he’s thinking about something serious. It’s hard to see with the ceiling light above them, but Gordon could swear he sees tears lining Benrey’s emotion-filled eyes. 

Benrey feels things very intensely. The intensity of an orgasm, especially one that good, could very easily bring him to tears. But something is different. His eyes meet Gordon’s and falter with vulnerability -- or something like love. 

Concerned, Gordon approaches this as gently as possible. He reaches up and gently strokes Benrey’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Hey. Was that good for you?”

“Yeah,” Benrey mumbles with a quick nod. “Felt really good. Feels really good to be inside you, Freeman. Thank you, best friend.” It’s obvious he’s physically pleased, still in the bliss of an orgasm spinning in his head. But something’s off about the look in his eyes. 

Gordon’s a little bit worried, despite himself. He has to ask him about it. “What’s going on in your head, man? You look distracted.”

“Huh? Oh, uhh. Nothing…” He half-shrugs. The lingering flush reddening his cheeks can’t be ignored. “I just have feelings for you, or whatever.”

He has such a talent for making Gordon smile. It’s infuriating, how good he is at that. 

Gordon’s first instinct, when confronted with raw vulnerability like this, is to dismiss it as a joke, to make it easier to deal with. Feelings are much easier to palate when they are treated passively. “You have feelings for me? Pfft. That’s so embarrassing.”

When he smiles back, Benrey flashes his teeth a little. He teases in return; joking back and forth comes more naturally to him than being sincere. “Didn’t say they were _good_ feelings.”

Gordon says the first smart-ass thing to come to mind. “I don’t know if I trust you to tell the difference.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Benrey hears it and it visibly sinks his heart. He looks away to try and hide the fact that he took a joke personally. But the implication of Gordon’s statement can’t be overlooked. It wasn’t intended to hurt, but Gordon knows how much it does.

Gordon is spurred by guilt to say something. “That was kinda mean. I didn’t mean it to come out that way.” It’s what Gordon says instead of sorry. He wishes he could be nicer, but he can’t force it out of his throat. 

Benrey mumbles an answer. “S’Okay…” Though he still sounds bummed, he seems to accept the apology, because he stops pouting. When Gordon sits up and apologizes with a kiss on the lips instead, Benrey softens and accepts that answer, too. 

As Benrey takes all his weight off of Gordon, gets up, and sits at the edge of the bed, Gordon remains on his back. The pulsating contractions of his lingering orgasm continue to tighten him rhythmically, though at a gradually slower and duller pace. He is still feeling it run through him. His heart is still kicked up. It was _that_ good. He still feels soaking wet. And weirdly _stuffed_.

“Wait, you came inside me?” Gordon asks him, still a bit breathless, even though he can feel it and knows the answer. He spreads his thighs a little bit and can feel his already-wet pussy completely filled with come now. It’s thick, hot, and heavy, and weighs down, sticking thick between his legs. 

Benrey leans back and cocks his head, getting a better angle so he can admire what it looks like between Gordon’s spread legs. He smirks a little. “Oh shit. That’s a serious mess.” He’s clearly proud of himself, which is annoying.

He is not exaggerating, though. Gordon feels _full_. “What the hell, man.” He’s had his fair share of come inside of him; had a lot of Benrey’s come, in particular. But this feels like a statistically significant amount. “I’ve never felt that much come out of someone before. That’s so nasty.” 

It honestly isn’t nasty. It’s super hot. If Gordon wasn’t exhausted and in desperate need of a shower, he might be tempted to rub one out with all of this come still painting the inside and outside of his pussy in a thick white coating. After that brutal fucking, his pussy is gaping, tender, and alit with heat. Getting another orgasm out of himself, or even asking Benrey kindly to help, would feel like pussy abuse. So instead of thinking too hard about how sexy getting cream-pied is, Gordon distracts himself by complaining instead.

“Ugh, there’s so much,” Gordon complains. “You’re so disgusting.” places a hand on his lower stomach, right atop his pelvis. It feels distended. It is almost unnoticeable, but Gordon knows his body and there is definitely something too-full inside of him. “Feels so weird…”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate art,” Benrey protests under his breath. “I’m tryin’ to emulate Pollock here…”

“Art!?” Gordon cuts him off, fury quickly rising. “This is… this is marking your territory. With a metric shit-ton of semen. It’s not art.”

Benrey pauses for a second. He talks kind of shyly now, turning his face a little. “I _told_ you I was in heat, bro.”

“I heard you. Loud and clear.” Annoyed, Gordon keeps a hand on his belly, his body hair faintly sticky with wet piss and sweat. He feels how full he is, stiff under soft. “Still don’t know what the _fuck_ that means, though.”

Benrey turns in his sitting position, facing his body towards Gordon a bit more. His brow is lowered a bit, and he isn’t smiling at all. “Heat means… _heat_. I dunno. It means, uh… I gotta get a lot inside you. As deep as I can put it.”

That answer does not sate Gordon’s curiosity. It actually mildly alarms him. “Uh. Why?”

Without missing a beat, he answers, “Those are the rules.”

Following a set of rules is not uncommon for Benrey, who enforces the rules at Black Mesa in a bizarrely excessive manner. Still, the answer does not ease Gordon’s confusion. “Rules?” he repeats.

“I dunno.” Benrey half-shrugs. “It’s just what my body told me to do.”

Gordon’s own body had told him to pull back on his legs to receive the deposit as deep as possible. So Gordon can’t dismiss that explanation. 

Squirming in place a little, Gordon reaches between his legs with his free hand. Slick, hot come has run out between his thighs, and it gets all over his hand. Straining upwards, he can see over his body, between his legs, that the mess has run past halfway down his thighs. He raises his hand so he can see it; his fingers are coated in dripping, translucent white come.

“This is so gross!” Gordon complains, touching his fingers together to determine viscosity. It’s mostly loose, but slightly sticks as his fingers pull apart. “This is really a lot!”

“I told you, bro…”

“No, you didn’t. I received no warning whatsoever for this.” He still has his other hand over his slightly-distended lower belly. He can practically feel it packed tight in there. “I feel fuckin’ _stuffed_ , man.”

Gordon makes the mistake of applying pressure. He presses his palm down on the part of his lower stomach that bulges stiffly, stuffed tight, and all of a sudden, it squirts out. It makes a seriously grotesque sound as it spurts back out of him, leaking out, adding to the mess between Gordon’s legs, on his spread thighs, and on the bed sheets. 

The sheets are a lost cause; completely soaked wet with a wide array of body fluids. When Gordon looks up at Benrey in shock, he sees him laughing, predictably. 

Benrey gestures to the volcano that is Gordon’s pussy, smugly. “Look at little Twinkie Gordon, all stuffed up with sweet, white cream.”

Gordon unsuccessfully stifles a snicker. “Pfft! No way am I a twink! That’s frankly insulting.”

Benrey suddenly and loudly laughs, “Haha!” before he can pretend to admit what Gordon said wasn’t funny as hell. Benrey is kind of caught up in it, amused at the thought. “I can’t even imagine that. So cringe.”

Gordon makes room for him on the bed. He lays down to join him for a few minutes longer before they clean up. “You know,” Gordon teases him, “Chances are, in at least one of the many parallel, alternate realities… Somewhere out there, is a twink Gordon Freeman.”

Benrey’s golden eyes are shining, with happiness, when he says, through a smile, “Glad I’m in this reality, then.”

Gordon just has to kiss him, after he hears that. Partly because it totally warms his heart. But mostly because he knows if he doesn’t shut Benrey up by kissing him, then he’s bound to ruin it by saying something childish, rude, or both. 

So he has to kiss him; he just has to. He holds his body close to kiss him harder. He does it as long as he can. Gordon wants this moment to last just a little bit longer. Forever, or for as long as he can possibly make it.


End file.
